Lamentations
by Starlight1534
Summary: Movie-verse. Set between the two movies. Some decisions are easy, and then others will haunt you. PeterMary Jane agnst. Read and review!
1. Misery, Misery, Misery

**Author's Notes**: I was originally going to do this a little differently. It started out as a songfic for "She Will Be Loved" and when Shi Rurouni of the Aphrodesiac beat me to it, I decided to scrap it. But then, when I was sitting in church the other day (hence, the title is the same as the book of Lamentations written by Jeremiah the prophet), I came up with an even better story than what I had, and it's different enough that it's not unoriginal. :) Now, I'll probably be struck by lightning for it… Oh well!

BTW, Shi Rurouni, thanks for the advice, it's what led me to rewrite this.

Disclaimer: I own nothing…you knew that. ;)

Chapter 1: Misery, Misery, Misery 

_Beauty queen of only eighteen  
She had some trouble with herself  
He was always there to help her  
She always belonged to someone else_

__

  
For as long as I can remember, I've been in love with her.

She never knew. I never told her. She was always somehow just out-of-reach. Who's Peter Parker to Mary Jane Watson? The two don't even begin to compare.

She's everything I'm not, beautiful, outgoing, confident. She's an angel, with fiery red hair that's a perfect match for her natural charismatic spark. And I… I so wanted to be with her.

I know she's not perfect; I couldn't have lived next door to her for 12 years and not figured that much out. But you can't pick your family, and certainly not your problems, so, in my opinion, she's about as close as it gets.

Whenever I used to dream, it was of her, and, for a while, I lived inside my head.

Things always seem to work out in dreams, the way they never seem to work out in life. But occasionally, you get lucky. At least, that's the only way I can think to describe it… 

* * *

_The moonlight bounced off the sleepy backyard patio, throwing itself in different directions, as my shadow sliced through the steady beams. Its soothing glow refracted off the dull metal of the trashcan lid for the split second it took me to drop the trash bag into the darkened recesses, before stabilizing as the lid was firmly back in place._

_The sound of shouting behind me caught my attention, and I turned in time to see Mary Jane emerge in an air of irritation, throwing her hands in her pockets in an attempt to combat the cold of the atmosphere. She sighed audibly, before noticing me watching her._

_Her brows furrowed. "Were you listening to that?" she accused._

_"No, I…" I stumbled, surprised by her harshness. "I mean, I heard, but I was… I was just taking out the trash."_

_Her anger dissipated as abruptly as it surfaced. Instead she sounded remorseful. "I guess you can always hear us."_

_"Everybody shouts."_

_"Your aunt and uncle don't." Her voice is softer then, wounded._

_I couldn't let it go at that, determined to make her feel better. She's prettier when she smiles. So, I told her what I knew she wanted to hear: "They can scream pretty good sometimes." It was at least partially true, though, their screams were rarely directed toward me._

_It was enough to assure her though._

_"So, where you going after you graduate?" she asked, shortening the distance between us._

_It was no secret that I was in to photography, so I had no reservations in telling her my ideal job as a means for paying for college. MJ however, hesitated._

_ "I want to… I don't know…" she trailed off, making it obvious to me that she did know but didn't want to tell me for fear of…_

'What? Fear of what?'_ No answers were forthcoming._

_"Oh come on, try me." I wanted her to know she could trust me. I wanted us to be friends._

_She suddenly looked so vulnerable, so embarrassed, that I almost told her to forget it, but before the words could escape my lips, she answered. "I want to act…on stage."_

_I could think of nothing more suitable for her. I knew she would make it big one day, and I counted myself lucky to be one of the few she shared this privileged information with. I only hoped that things could work out as well for myself. 

* * *

__

  


_

But that was before my life turned into a nightmare. Now when I dream, I see spiders…

I'm cursed, a somewhat reluctant hero, trying in vain to work off a debt that can never be repaid.

But I won't stop. Not as long as I can prevent others from sharing a similar pain. Not as long as I have the opportunity to do what's right - even if that means giving up the love of my life, to leave her saddened by the grave of my other lost loved one, the one I failed to protect.

If I'd been anywhere else, I might not have had the strength to walk away. But standing there, with the voice of Uncle Ben echoing across my mind, I had no choice. I can't take the chance of her getting hurt. Not another death because of me. It's a decision I made the day I chose selfishness over honor, and I will forever suffer the consequences. Now, I live only for others.

I have a responsibility. But that doesn't make it any easier. 

* * *

To Be Continued. Oh, and before you go...leave a reivew? :)


	2. Haunted

**Author's Notes:** Heh…would you believe me if I said I had writer's block? :)  
I didn't think so… But I have been rather busy lately trying to get all my college applications finished. Now that I'm finally done all I have to do is wait until March to find out if I've been accepted…joy.

Anyway, many thanks to all my reviewers. You guys are awesome. Sorry this took so long.

Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.

Chapter 2: Haunted

_XxXxX_

_I drove for miles and miles  
And wound up at your door  
I've had you so many times but somehow  
I want more_

_XxXxX_

It seems no matter what I do, it all comes back to Mary Jane, in one way or another. It's because I was taking pictures of her that the spider bit me in the first place, it was to impress her that I lied, and ultimately, cost Uncle Ben his life, and it's because of my desire to protect her that I can't be with her.

It's all so ironic.

What's worse, I can't get her out of my head. She's haunting me.

I don't know how much more I can take.

_XxXxX_

From my perch on the top of the darkened building, I can see almost everything in the city.

A variety of colors light up the ground below, drawing long shadows and obscuring countless faces, countless people, countless truths about the difficulty of living in a big city, or anywhere, for that matter. Life is no easy thing. But from up here, everything looks so simple. Maybe that's why I'm so drawn to this location above the city. Why I continue to do what I do. Yes, it's my responsibility, but at the same time, when I'm up here, I'm not thinking about whether I'm going to make next months rent, or whether I'm doing the right thing bywalking away from loved ones, from Mary Jane. I'm sort of detached from all that drama. Up here, I simply watch, guard.

There's something truly amazing about the view. I wonder if maybe this is how God feels. Not that I'm comparing myself with God, mind you. No one can fill his shoes, certainly not me… not after everything that's happened with Uncle Ben, Mr. Osborn…

Realizing thoughts like these are exactly what I came up here to get away from, I turn my focus back to the city.

Cars crowd the streets, even at this late hour. (I often wonder where everybody's going all the time, and why they're insuch a hurry to be there.) People drift in and out of shops and alleyways, laugh loudly with one another, carelessly flaunt their possessions. And then those same people get robbed, threatened, or worse.

My work is never done.

As if on cue, a cry comes up from the streets below. _Figures_. Duty calls.

Under the cover of darkness, in a side alley, a gruff man, grossly unclean, holds a frightened woman against the red brick wall of the alley. His hands are a dirty black against the white skin of the woman's throat, as though he's an auto mechanic who spends his days working on engines (though I doubt seriously that he's been working engines with those hands, present company included). Clutched in the palm of those said hands is a rusty knife. _This shouldn't be too hard…_

"Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

In response, the assailant turns, mildly surprised, but looks up only long enough to threaten: "You mess with me, Spidey, and I'll put you out of your misery!" before turning back to the woman. _Like I've never heard that before…_

"Promise?" I return.

Then he proceeds to do what every criminal known to man would do in the same situation (it's like there's a book on it somewhere!), and he shifts his position so he's behind the woman, using her as a shield, knife still at her throat.

"Oh god…no, oh, god…" the woman repeats over and over, but I pay no attention to her. Luckily, the thug's unoriginality works to my advantage; I'm prepared for it.

Hence, I resolve the situation fairly quickly.

It's only after the guy's hanging by his wrists that I turn to face the woman, only now able to really notice her…

_Oh, god! Mary Jane!_

I stagger backwards, taken off guard. _What's she doing here?! _She reacts, as well, thinking I'm hurt.

"Spider-Man, are you okay?"

It takes me a minute to recover, and when I do, I realize what should have been obvious from the start. I was wrong. She's not really MJ, but for a moment… for a moment she _was_. Or at least, my mind convinced me she was.

Heart still pounding from my mental lapse, I'm only able to nod before I can't take the situation any longer. I swing up and as far away as possible.

_What's the matter with me? Now I'm seeing her everywhere…? That can't be good. I'm going to have a mental breakdown right here in the streets of downtown New York._

The only sense I can make out of the whole situation is that it's my own fault. I am my own worst enemy. I can defeat any villain that comes my way, including the terror that was the Green Goblin, but I can't quell my own conscience.

I've been feeling so guilty about leaving MJ, and not knowing how or what she's doing that I'm imagining her in a horrible situation.

The only solution then, would be to check on her, make sure she's okay. I mean, I promised her I'd always take care of her, right?

I swing to her apartment, but to avoid giving my presence away, I move to the building across the street from hers. I can see her room well enough. The lights are on, but nobody moves inside. I don't know how long I wait, unmoving, before I catch a glance of her, but it feels like an eternity.

Finally, she emerges from another room, brilliant-red hair pulled back, make up removed. I've never seen her look more beautiful. Oblivious of my watchful gaze, she goes about her business of getting ready for bed, like a normal person. I release a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

She's safe. And if not being with her means she'll stay that way… then I guess it's worth it. The right thing to do.

So, why does it feel so wrong?

_XxXxX_

End part two. There's only like one more chapter after this, and it's already partially written, so hopefully you won't have to wait as long for an update.:) Yay. Review!


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